


Life.

by Oldguybones



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 07:29:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17762459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oldguybones/pseuds/Oldguybones
Summary: The world seems to be moving too fast around him; Richie can’t keep up anymore. When did things get so bad between them? Just yesterday it felt like he was getting a good morning handjob under the covers and now their marriage is over? The marriage he knows absolutely nothing about and now can’t remember to save his life. It doesn’t even feel like it’s his to save.





	Life.

Soft, desperate moans fill the apartment as two bodies crash through the front door. Thank god his roommates aren’t home, Richie thinks when the stranger’s back hits the wall with a considerable thud and loud gasp in response. One hand grips the other’s cheek, thumb resting under his chin while his other is tangled in soft blonde locks. He breaks the heated kiss to pause for a moment, looking its the stranger’s striking eyes.

“Fuck, what’s your name again?” he asks breathlessly, their bodies still pressed firmly together.

“Eddie,” the stranger answers, without missing a beat, his lips quickly returning to Richie’s. His fingers grip the hem of his t-shirt, quickly lifting it up and off when Richie raises his arms into the air. The second they drop, his hands return to cup both of Eddie’s cheeks, pulling him impossibly closer as their tongue continue to slide together with a crazed urgency. The bulge of his erection presses firmly against Eddie’s thigh as their bodies grind together.

He groans into the kiss when he feels Eddie’s deft fingers easily working his belt undone and quickly moving onto unbutton his jeans. Within seconds, Eddie’s dropped to his knees and is already shoving his pants down to expose his aching length. Richie braces himself with both hands on the wall in front of him, letting out an uncontrollable shudder as Eddie takes him into his mouth in one quick swoop.

“Fu-fuck,” he groans out, leaning all his weight onto his arms, considering his legs refusal to hold him upright, “Holy shit, Eds, you work fast.”

Eddie’s already bobbing his head over his length, but he pulls back just long enough to quip, “That’s not my name.”

Somewhere between those words and the way Eddie eagerly resumes his handiwork, Richie swears he falls in love right there. After another minute or two, he pulls away, trailing a line of kisses up his stomach and chest before connecting their lips again.

“Where’s your bedroom?” he questions eagerly, his fingers curling around Richie’s wrist to bring his hand to cup the bulge in his own pants.

Richie lets a groan slip from his lips, his hand eagerly palming Eddie through his pants. He drinks in all the soft sounds of pleasure he omits from the action, dipping his head down to kiss his neck. He could get lost in this feeling, so very easily, which causes him to pull himself apart from Eddie, just long enough to grab his hand and lead them to his bedroom.

Immediately, he rifles through the top drawer of his nightstand, pulling out the lube and a condom. Better now than fumbling for it later. When he turns around, Eddie is bent over, peeling off his skin tight pants and revealing a pair of snug, red briefs perfectly hugging the curve of his ass.

“Holy shit,” he mutters under his breath, swallowing the lump in his throat and attempting to ignore the surge of heat shooting to his core.

Eddie kicks his discarded pants away, leaving him standing there in only his underwear and his obvious confidence. “You gonna come over here and do something about it or just keep staring?” he asks with a smirk over his shoulder.

Lube in hand, Richie marches over to him, lust ignited behind each step as he guides Eddie over to the nearest wall. He presses Eddie’s bare chest up against it, grinding his crotch to Eddie’s perfectly round ass. “Fuck,” he groans, kissing and biting at Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie is eagerly working his hips back against Richie’s. “That’s what we’re gonna do,” he replies smugly, “Hopefully _soon._ ”

Richie takes the hint easily enough, his fingers curling around the fabric of his briefs and tugging them down. By the time Eddie’s stepping out of them, Richie’s already coating his fingers and rubbing them between his cheeks and over his hole.

There’s a renewed sense of urgency present as he preps him, Eddie practically doing all the way as he fucks himself back against Richie’s fingers. A little dumbfounded, Richie just watches and keeps them still.

Eddie peeks over his shoulder and catches Richie’s slack-jawed stare. “Please fuck me now,” he moans, somehow sounding incredibly polite and dirty at the same time.

All Richie can do is nod as he quickly strokes his cock with his lubed up hand. Moments later, he’s lining the head up to Eddie’s hole and sinking in with a low hiss of pleasure. Eddie throws his head back to rest on Richie’s shoulder as he whimpers, both from adjusting to the fullness and the pleasure from Richie’s hand slowly stroking his dick to alleviate the discomfort.

“Fuck me,” Eddie gasps out, his hand reaching up to cradle the back of Richie’s neck, keeping his lips stationed on his neck as he sucks and bites the sensitive flesh. Richie starts off slow, pulling back and pushing forward once again. Soon enough, his hips begin rolling into a steady rhythm, eliciting sounds of gratification from both of them.

“Feels so fucking good,” Richie groans, breath hot against Eddie’s ear as he presses kisses to the sensitive skin right behind it.

Eddie nods in agreement as he reaches behind him to dig his fingers into the pliant flesh of Richie’s ass, urging him into a faster, harder pace. Just then, Eddie lets out a loud, drawn out moan, “Oh my god yes! Just like that!”

Richie continues to pound into him, his rhythm never once faltering as he shifts his hips slightly. When he does, Eddie’s jaw drops and he lets out a silent cry of pleasure. Richie smirks, beaming with pride as he keeps his hips exactly at that angle, to keep slamming into Eddie’s prostate.

“Right there, right there! Don’t stop!” Eddie exclaims, his hand flying down to grab Richie’s wrist as he resumes his strokes over his cock. He doesn’t stop it or assist, just holds on to satiate the need to hold onto something, anything really as waves of pleasure continue to crash down on him.

From there, it didn’t take much longer for both of them to succumb to their releases, Eddie first and Richie following shortly after. Slowly, Richie pulls out and discards the condom. He turns around to find Eddie still leaning against the wall, slouched against it with his eyes closed.

“You alright there?” Richie chuckles, walking over to him and resting his hand on his lower back. He tries to not let himself get distracted by his completely bare ass, perfectly curved in all the right places.

“Mmhmm,” Eddie hums in response, his eyes peeking over to meet Richie’s, “It’s been a while.”

“Since you’ve had sex?”

Eddie shakes his head, laughing softly, “Since I’ve had _good_ sex.”

Richie joins in the laughter, nodding along in understanding, “Well I’m flattered. Glad I could help you out with that one.”

After a quiet moment, Eddie moves over to his discarded underwear and begins to pull them on before Richie stops him.

“Stay. I have a shower with decent water pressure and definitely an inadequate amount of space for two people,” Richie jokes, waggling his eyebrows in a faux sexy manner.

Eddie chuckles, moving over to where Richie stands. He stands on his tip toes to press a kiss to his hips. “How can I say no to that?”

“I know, I have a lot to offer.”

  


Richie stirs in bed the next morning, pleasant memories floating about his mind. He hums in appreciation as he feels the weight of the body next to him shift and soon, soft kisses are being pressed against his shoulders and arms. He recalls the rest of the previous evening; showering together until the water ran cold and falling asleep together in his bed. Not his usual one night stand move but he felt such a strong connection to Eddie, even just from the one evening they spent together. Slowly, his eyes crack open and he smiles at the sight of the gorgeous blonde laying beside him, his upper half bare and his lower half only covered by a thin white sheet.

_Wait, I don’t own white sheets._ Richie frowns at the thought, fully opening his eyes to better take in the scene. He immediately shoots up in bed as his gaze scans frantically around the unfamiliar room. It falls back to Eddie, the stranger he met and had sex with the night prior. He’s looking at him with a puzzled expression.

“Are you okay baby?” he asks, affectionate concern dripping from his voice. He reaches out to touch Richie’s arm, only to have him scrambling away from the touch and falling out of bed in the process. “Richie!”

No, this isn’t happening. He fell asleep late night in his own bed and now, he’s waking up somewhere he doesn’t recognize. And this guy seems to be far too affectionate for someone he met less than 24 hours ago. He has to get out of there, this is just far too weird. Richie fumbles to get to his feet, noting a pair of jeans laying on the floor beside him. He pulls them on hastily, barely getting them buttoned before he rushes out of the room, ignoring the calls from the other man and the quick footsteps behind him.

Richie ends up running out of the apartment and onto the street, in nothing but a pair of jeans and his shoes gripping in his hand. He looks around and realizes that he truly has no clue where he is. Randomly, he chooses a direction and begins to jog to the end of the street.

_138th street?_ Fuck, he’s nowhere near his apartment, but only a few blocks away from own of his closest friends. He heads in that direction, figuring perhaps she can help him make sure of all his nonsense, or at least share a laugh over his crazy one night stand.

When she answers her door, she bursts out laughing immediately at the sight before her. Richie brushes past her into the apartment, “Yeah, sure, laugh it up Bev!”

“What the hell happened to you?” she asks, wiping at her teary eyes as the laughter finally begins to die out.

“I’ll tell you what happened!” Richie exclaims, dropping his shoes to the floor and falling down onto her couch, draping an arm over his eyes. “I just had the craziest one night stand.”

Bev’s happy demeanor drops immediately, “What the fuck do you mean one night stand? What about Eddie?”

Richie sits up, eyes squinting in suspicion as he peers up at her, “How do you know his name?”

“Hardy har Richie,” she says sarcastically, rolling her eyes as she moves into the kitchen, pulling two mugs down form the cupboard and pouring coffee into each of them. “Look, I don’t need to hear about whatever weird sex stuff you and Eddie do to each other, okay? That’s your own god damn business.”

“Look,” Richie says firmly, taking the mug she hands him regardless. “I went to sleep in my own apartment last night and woke up in a bed that wasn’t mine!”

Bev sighs, bringing her mug to her lips and taking a slow sip. “You probably just had a little too much to drink and slept over at Eddie’s last night.”

Richie’s mind keeps racing, a million thoughts a minute. What does Bev mean? Why is she talking so casually about him? Who is this Eddie guy, really? He’s got up in all these thoughts when her phone vibrates in front of her on the coffee table.

“That’s Eddie,” she says, after picking it up and reading the incoming message, “Wants to know if I’ve heard from you because you ran out and were acting ‘super weird’,” she recites, using air quotes at the end.

Richie remains still in stunned silence for a passing minutes, trying to find answers to his rampant confusion. But no matter what scenario he went over, he still couldn’t find any. So instead, he leans forward and slips his shoes on, wordlessly running out of Bev’s apartment. He vaguely recollects her shout of, “You are being weird!” before he pulls the door shut behind him.

From there, he returns home, back to his own apartment where he feels safe. Maybe he can find some answers or at least things can feel normal there. He sighs happily at the familiarity that washes over him the second he steps through the door. It brings him a sense of comfort. He waves to Stan, who’s lounging on the couch with Bill and Mike and ignores the way Stan seems surprised to see him. Finally, he collapses onto his bed and closes his eyes, content to fall back asleep. Granted, he’s only been awake for a short period, but he already feels like all his energy is gone.

A creeping feeling sneaks up on him though, almost as if he’s being watched. His eyes shoot open and quickly fall upon the framed photo resting on his nightstand. Once again, his heart begins to beat wildly in his chest, confusion settling back in his gut. It appears to be a selfie, taken by himself with the blonde stranger, his own night stand, _Eddie._ He’s got his arm around Eddie’s shoulders and Eddie is pressing a kiss to his cheek. Richie’s giving the camera a big, toothy grin.

_What’s going on?_

Whatever thought about to surface to his mind is cut off by a knock on the door. Richie freezes. Maybe if he’s incredibly still, it won’t be who he thinks--

“Richie, Eddie’s here!” Stan calls from the living room.

_Fuck._ He slides off of his bed and shuffles over to the door, his fingers resting on the doorknob for a few seconds before finally turning it and slowly walking out into the living room.

“Rich!” Eddie exclaims, rushing over to him and throwing his arms around Richie’s neck. Tentatively, Richie curls his arms around his waist in response, mulling over how right it felt to have Eddie pressed against him like this. After all, the two of them had amazing sex, weird morning after aside.

“You worried me!” he reprimands lightly, pulling back and looking up at Richie with a pout. “What’s going on with you baby?”

Richie swallows the lump in his throat; the worried glint in Eddie’s eyes brings back flashes of their bodies pressed together, Eddie’s gaze locking with his, the beautiful cries of pleasures from his lips. His heart flutters, from a mix of confusion and something else he can’t quite place, fondness maybe?

He reaches down and cups both of Eddie’s cheek, leaning in to press a hesitant kiss to his lips. He feels Eddie smile against his lips and relax. “I guess I just forgot we fell asleep at your place,” he says casually, shrugging his shoulders.

Eddie chuckles fondly, reaching up to adjust his glasses for him. “You should just move in with me. It’s not like you don’t spend almost every night there anyways.”

Richie’s not sure what compels him to give the answer he does, especially considering his very, very confusing morning. But for some reason, all he can reply with is, “ _Okay_.”

  


The next time he wakes up, it’s back at Eddie’s apartment again, but this time, he feels more at ease. Maybe he’s just having a hard time remembering. People struggle with problems in regards to their memories all the time right? _If it gets any worse_ , Richie thinks, promising himself to get checked out if things worsen. But right now, he can’t find himself too worried about it because there’s a warm body pressed against his under the cover, and a hand wrapping around his hardening length.

“Good morning,” Eddie purrs, teeth nibbling on his ear lobe as he begins to slowly stroke Richie’s cock.

Richie keeps his eyes closed, relaxed and enjoying the early morning handjob from his apparent boyfriend. There are worse things to wake up to, he supposes. He turns his head to the side, seeking out Eddie’s lips and connecting them in a deep kiss, his tongue sliding between Eddie’s parted lips. Even if he can’t exactly remember, he feels like the luckiest guy in the world because Eddie is applying just the right pressure, at the exact right spots. He swipes his thumb over the head every other pump and twists his wrist on the downstroke every time. The only way it could get better is if--

_Holy shit, this guy is perfect,_ Richie thinks as Eddie reaches down with his other hand to cup his balls, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin. With a groan, he rests his head back against the pillow. A gasp is forced from his lips when he feels Eddie’s attach directly to the juncture between his neck and collarbone, giving it the kind of attention which sends a shiver down his spine and causes his leg to shake uncontrollably for a moment. He feels Eddie smile against his skin in response.

Richie can feel his breathing becoming uneven, the coil in his stomach growing tight. The full pumps of Eddie’s hand over his shaft concentrate now towards the head and increase in his speed, while his other hand keeps playing with his balls. His release crashes down on him suddenly then, spilling beneath the blanket and over Eddie’s gist.

He watches in dumbfounded shock as Eddie draws his hand out from beneath the blanket and licks the bits of come that landed there.

“Holy shit,” Richie whispers in awe, “That was incredible.”

Eddie chuckles fondly, leaning over to kiss his cheek before sliding out of bed and walking over to the closet. “It’s just a handjob babe.”

“Yeah, but like you really knew what you were doing there.”

Eddie laughs again as he pulls a button up shirt from its hanger and shrugs it on, turning to face the bed as he buttons it, “We’ve been going out for like two years. I would hope I know how to jerk your dick by now.”

Richie freezes, a creeping suspicion crawling back to him. _Two years. It’s been two years?_ No, just two nights ago they slept together for the first time. He’s only off by about seven hundred and twenty eight days. Once again, Richie is let with the feeling that he has absolutely no clue what’s happening; his entire body feels light, almost like it’s not grounded to the bed he’s currently laying in.

“Baby?” Eddie questions softly as he kneels on the edge of the bed near Richie. He reaches up to press the back of his hand against Richie’s forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”

Richie sits up slowly and nods, “Yeah, no, I’m fine. Just feeling a little weird,” he tries to say dismissively and shrug off the feeling threatening to overwhelm him, but it’s hard.

“Okay,” Eddie mutters, obviously still skeptical, “Maybe you should skip work and go get checked out. We’ve got Ben and Bev’s party tonight. I’d hate if you had to miss it.”

At the time, Richie doesn’t think much of it. He agrees. They say their goodbyes as Eddie leaves for work and shortly after, Richie finds himself at the hospital, answering a multitude of questions and explaining his _symptoms_ to a nurse, who eyes him suspiciously the whole time. Great. She probably thinks he’s crazy too; god knows he thinks so too.

And he feels it, when all the scans they do come back fine, he _feels_ crazy. What’s wrong with him? Apparently nothing. He carries the weight with him all day as he walks aimlessly around the city, confused as ever. At one point, he gets a text from Eddie, however, he can’t bring himself to view it.

Eventually, he makes his way back to Eddie’s, _their,_ apartment. He still has no answers. But it’s getting late and apparently the two of them have a party to attend tonight, even though he has absolutely no clue what kind of party it is.

But he finds out soon enough and it’s like a punch to his gut. An array of pink and blue decorations fill up a home he’s never been to before. They walk in, hand in hand; Eddie comments on how cute all the decorations are and how excited he is to find out the gender.

Richie frowns, still unable to piece all the pieces together. He’s confused, that’s for sure. And when they finally find the hosts, it does little to absolve that. Eddie envelops Bev in a hug and compliments her on the gorgeous floral print dress she wears. Richie silently watches her grab Eddie’s hand and place it on her round stomach.

“You’re pregnant,” Richie whispers in disbelief.

“Yeah, no shit Tozier,” she exclaims with a chuckle, reaching out for his hand. “Want to feel ‘em kick?”

He watches as Eddie, his _boyfriend’s_ face lights up in excitement. He doesn’t hear the words being spoken around him, all noises seem to fade and bleed together. He feels crazier than ever; before, he could play it off, shrug it off like he wasn’t totally insane. But he just saw Bev two days ago, two _days,_ certainly not two years, certainly not long enough for her to be so pregnant.

_I can’t do this._

He’s not sure if he actually says the words aloud, but he feels the crushing weight of all eyes on him as he stumbles backwards. He spins around and books it out of the house; he sprints down the street, in a random direction, with no true destination. He just can’t handle this anymore. What’s going on? Why does he feel like this? Like everyone else is clued in, living this life around him while he struggles to catch up, struggles to live it alongside them.

The next thing he remembers is black. He’s not sure what’s happened. One minute he’s running down the crowded street, trying to get away from everything and the next all he can see is black. He’s tired, so he succumbs to the feeling drawing him in and there’s a feeling of serenity overwhelming him.

 

Until it’s ripped away from him suddenly and he wakes with a jolt, his chest heaving drastically as he struggles to pull in even a single breath. The room he’s in is unfamiliar, but all the furniture and decor appear to be the same from Eddie’s apartment. He’s in the room alone and perhaps he’s grateful for that. Bringing his hand up to rub over his face, he stops when a glint of gold catches his eyes. He holds his left hand out in front of him, noting a thick band wrapped around his ring finger. His gaze flickers out to the picture frames perched on the dresser and he flies out of bed to get a closer look. Sure enough, it’s the two of them, sharing a dance together while clad in matching tuxedos. There’s a beautiful cursive lettering along the bottom of the frame. _Our first dance._

This is a joke right? He has to be. The losers have decided to make up for all the years he pranked them mercilessly; that’s the only reasonable explanation he can think of. How they’re pulling this off though…

Richie shakes the thought from his head and ventures out of the room, finding the staircase and gently padding down the stairs. He’s met with an overwhelmingly heartwarming sight; Eddie’s laying on the couch, a young redheaded child sleeping on his chest.

He makes his way over to them, his gaze flickering around the living room as he moves. It falls back onto Eddie when he reaches the edge of the couch. “What the fuck?” he whispers in confusion.

“Language!” Eddie whisper yells, staring up at him with a glare on his face. “I don’t want her learning bad words. I’m sure Bev would think it’s hilarious, but Ben, not so much.”

“Awwww, well, Ben’s no fun,” Richie replies, the words tumbling out before he can really control them. For a moment, he almost feels like he’s not in his body when he says it.

“I want one,” Eddie says with a pout, wrapping his arms around the young child and hugging her close. He presses a soft kiss to her forehead and brushes back her red curls.

He could’ve sworn...just hours ago, he attended a party, hosted by a very pregnant Bev. And now here he is, staring down at what is obviously her child, who is at least a couple years old. And the picture on the dresser, clearly depicting what appeared to be their wedding day. His eyes snap down to inspect Eddie’s hand and sure enough, he finds a matching gold band wrapped around his ring finger as well.

 

“Oh my…” he whispers to himself, trailing off as he blinks. Suddenly, he’s back in the same bedroom he woke up in previously. He frantically scans the room, his heart thumping in his chest. Wait a minute, he was just downstairs?

“God, can you pay attention to me, just this once?” Eddie’s angry voice sounds from behind him.

He spins around to face him, taking in the sight of his _husband’s_ rosy cheeks and teary eyes. He’s obviously upset and they’re obviously in the middle of something, only Richie’s been thrust into the middle of it with no recollection of what happened prior.

“You know, that’s the problem,” he cries, “You don’t even listen! You don’t care about what I want!”

Richie stands, silently, caught in the middle of a fight, accused of things he can’t even defend because he doesn’t remember doing them. “I don’t know what’s going on,” he murmurs cluelessly.

“You got that right,” Eddie snaps, throwing his arms into the air, “You know what Richie, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t. I’m done.”

The world seems to be moving too fast around him; Richie can’t keep up anymore. When did things get so bad between them? Just yesterday it felt like he was getting a good morning handjob under the covers and now their marriage is over? The marriage he knows absolutely nothing about and now can’t remember to save his life. It doesn’t even feel like it’s his to save.

 

The next time he wakes up, it’s in the same bed and everything appears to be the same as it was before. He relishes the vague familiarity; maybe everything up until this point has been some weird, vivid dream that he’s finally woken up from. Dread creeps into his gut as he recalls the last thing he remembers. The fight. Eddie declaration that he _can’t do this anymore._ So when he makes his way downstairs, he’s not even expecting to find Eddie down there.

Yet there he is, in the kitchen. And he looks…. _older._ Small wrinkles on his forehead, blonde hair thinning slightly. Richie feels a warmth in his chest and an unknown force driving him to walk over to him and wrap his arms around his waist. Everything feels okay, in this moment.

“You look beautiful today,” he murmurs, giving his temple a kiss. The words don’t feel like his own; he said them and he knows he meant them. It’s a weird feeling taking over him, like he’s outside of his body and someone else is making the moves for him. For a moment, the confusion doesn’t seem to bother him as much. He presses another kiss to Eddie’s cheek and then one to his neck before another voice in the room pulls back him.

“Ewww, dad,” it scoffs, “Why don’t you two get a room?”

He looks up to see a young child, perhaps around seven or eight sitting at the kitchen table across the room from them. There’s a bowl of cereal in front of her, alongside a backpack.

“Delilah Marie Tozier,” Eddie says firmly, “Why don’t you watch the attitude? And what have I told you about putting your backpack on the kitchen table?”

It takes all his strength to remove himself from the moment to acknowledge that its been at least seven years since the last memory he can recall. He can’t really bring himself to care, he’s becoming far too tired to fight it anymore and it’s a nice moment he’s in, seemingly a nice life he’s apparently built for himself.

 

But it fades, like all the prior moments. He’s thrust once again into a future, his own future built upon countless memories he cannot remember. This one takes place in a hospital room, he’s laying on the bed when he wakes up. He’s out of it, in and out of consciousness. Like all the other times, he doesn’t quite know what’s going on. He peers around the room and his eyes land on the bed a few feet away from his own; in it lays Eddie, though he’s unrecognizable. His hair has turned white and his skin consists of nothing but wrinkles. He’s hooked up to countless machines and there’s a soft wheezing sounding from his direction.

Richie wants to sit up and inspect the scene closer, but he finds the small action nearly impossible. Staring down at his hands, he finds them to be equally as wrinkled as his husbands. His wedding ring is still very much in place on his finger. He wants to reach out and grab Eddie’s hand; he tries to muster all the strength he can manage. However, it isn’t enough in his feeble state.

In the corner of the room, two young adults sit, speaking quietly between themselves. The woman, with long blonde hair similar to Eddie’s, stands when she realizes he’s awake.

“Dad, hey, it’s okay,” she says gently, gripping the foot of his bed so she can move it closer to Eddie’s. He smiles in appreciation, seemingly the only action he feels confident in. Slowly, he raises his hand up; it shakes drastically as he moves it over to find Eddie’s and rests on top of it, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Finally, somehow, he feels at peace. He knows what’s coming next; he’s prepared for a lifetime for it. In wedding vows and late night diaper changes, he’s always promised to remain by Eddie’s side until his dying breath.

The sound of the flatline barely registers as he fades out again, this time into blackness. In the far distance, he can hear the sound of the flatline still, as well as a steady stream of different voices all calling out orders and he can see a far off light, getting closer and closer. It feels warm and comforting, beckoning him in. It feels like decades of love and a lifetime of happiness. Somehow everything falls into place. He has lived a long, healthy life, one worth watching before his very eyes in his final moments. 


End file.
